


tonight i'm making deals with the devil

by rillrill



Category: Veep
Genre: Anal Sex, F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Size Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-17
Updated: 2016-09-17
Packaged: 2018-08-15 11:25:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8054476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rillrill/pseuds/rillrill
Summary: Ridiculously inequitable, really; she’s a bad feminist and she hates herself for it.





	tonight i'm making deals with the devil

**Author's Note:**

> Super gross NSFW Friday tumblr fill for Mimi, that's all it is. Title is from "Side to Side" by Ariana.

"You ready?"

"Mm."

Amy's not sure whether she's ready or not, truthfully, but Jonah looks so fucking nervous-excited that it would almost make her feel bad to go back on it now. He's rubbing her leg, his big hand wrapped around her upper thigh as he leans in to kiss her again, hot and pushy with tongue. She swallows, takes a deep, grounding breath. Then another. Kisses back. Jonah squeezes down on her leg, then slaps her inner thigh softly, barely a tap. "Get up a little," he mutters, and Amy swallows again and sits up on her heels.

Amy’s blushing, furiously, feels herself going tomato red from her face all the way down to her sternum, and she kind of hates herself for even suggesting this in the first place. Yeah, so fucking what, Jonah’d been wheedling her for months, bringing it up first as a joke and then when they were both wasted enough to talk freely. She still didn’t have to say yes. She still didn’t have to do three shots of tequila and then go “Hey, you know, I wouldn’t actually hate it if…” three weeks ago. She definitely didn’t have to let it go this far.

Except, like, it’s not like she doesn’t like it, either. With other guys, at least, it’s not bad. Other guys with smaller cocks, that’s fine, she’s down to do it on special occasions. 

(She thinks it’s weird that Jonah’s maybe the most informed about the whole thing out of anyone she’s done it with. Then again, she reminds herself: Jonah fucks guys. That knowledge base had to come in handy sometime.)

Amy feels, like, ridiculously exposed. Jonah’s not naked enough, not even close, still wearing his stupid fucking jeans and his t-shirt, and she’s just. Naked. In his bed. Ridiculously inequitable, really; she’s a bad feminist and she hates herself for it. She’s wetter than she expected to be, just from having Jonah on top of her like this, doing the whole body-worship thing. Tongue laving over one nipple, rolling the other between his fingers, his other hand ghosting over her clit. Not rubbing, just – present. He licks a stripe across her breastbone and moves his fingers down to her lower lips, and she feels his exhale as he laughs. 

“Jesus, you’re, like, soaked,” he comments, and she bites down on her lip and rolls her eyes.

“You’re doing a good job?” she counters, and his eyes flick up to hers with cocky amusement.

“ _Yeah_ , I am,” he says, and she groans as he dips his fingers inside her. Bucks her hips up off the bed, trying in vain to grind her clit against his palm as he fucks her with two fingers. Hard, fast. She can hear herself, how wet she is, and he’s looking at her all knowing and smug as he does it. Pulls them out, and slowly – dangerously slowly, maddeningly slowly – draws a line down her seam, down to her ass, spreading her wetness as he goes.

She lets him flip her over, push her onto all fours. He's running his hand along her back, stroking her softly, as if he can feel her heartbeat pulsing through her spine. Can he? She's certainly fucking on-edge enough. It's just that he's big, okay, he's fucking bigger than she's used to, and this is...

It's a lot to take. All at once. Inside - her.

She's breathing deep again and forcing herself to relax as she feels Jonah spread her open, and then there's his tongue - he's fucking good at this, at least, doesn't know how or when he became so infernally good at eating ass but here they are. He drags his tongue up and down, up and down, in wide broad strokes at make her shiver as he brushes his thumb over her clit, again and again. His tongue works at the outer edges of her entrance, teasing, making her cringe ticklish - and then he's closing his mouth over her, working his tongue inside, slick and loud with spit. She closes her eyes in vague mortification. It sounds fucking obscene. Jonah fucks her eagerly with his tongue, one hand holding her spread, the other grinding hard and slow against her. She exhales hard, slow, rubbing her face slowly against the pillowcase, letting him work her with his mouth, until he pulls away with an audible slurp and says, "Holy shit, have you been prepping in secret or something?"

Amy grits her teeth, grinds her jaw as her face heats up. "Your dick is fucking massive," she mutters. "Forgive me for not wanting to just, like, cram it up my ass totally unprepared -"

He laughs in shaky, amazed disbelief, and Amy gropes blindly on the bedside table and pushes the lube bottle into his other, outstretched hand, and closes her eyes – he’s working with both hands now, and she doesn’t even want to watch, just relaxes, consciously, as he presses one of his (stupid horrible long thick) fingers inside her. Amy isn’t – she _prepared_ for this, because she’s not a fucking sorority girl, this isn’t her first final club party – she prepped for like a week with toys and her own fingers and got herself off like six times doing it, but somehow it’s so much more intense than she expected in the moment. Jonah’s fingers are so much bigger than her own. She feels, for the first time in a while, a little bit unprepared.

Jonah chuckles; he rubs her clit, slowly fucking her on his finger. "Calm down," he mutters, and then, "fuck, Ame, you're so tight, relax -" He drops a kiss on the base of her spine, and she can feel his hot breath there. "Relax for me."

Amy does: she consciously relaxes each muscle in her tense body, letting the taut apprehension flow from her frame. Jonah teases her entrance with a second finger, and she relaxes a little more, lets him work his thick middle finger into her. He opens her up slowly, lube and fingers and her own juices, and rubs lazily at her clit with his other hand while he does it, until she’s got her hips bucking against him and her hands scrabbling for purchase on the pillowcase. “You good?” he asks after three fingers, and Amy bites down on her lower lip, chest heaving, and nods.

“I’m gonna get on top,” she says, decisively, because that’s how she’s always done it, and he nods, scrambles to undo his pants, get his shirt over his head and flat on his back, one lube-slick hand stroking his hard-on as she gathers her hair behind her head and takes a deep breath in preparation.

Her breath hitches as she takes his slick cock in one hand, straddling his hips – they buck up as she rubs his head along the cleft of her ass, and he takes a hissing breath. “Fuck,” he mutters, looking up at her with eyes aglow, “right, yeah, just like that, grind on it –”

“Jonah, _please_ shut the fuck up,” she snaps, her normal had-it-to-here attitude breaking through the fog clouding her brain. To his credit, he does, and just bites down hard on his own lower lip as she teases her entrance with the head of his cock. Amy closes her eyes again, consciously relaxes every goddamn muscle in her body – she’s never been so relaxed, she’s basically a yoga teacher’s wet dream right now – and slowly, slow as she can bear it, bears down.

Fuck. _Fuck_. He’s so big, she can’t – she _can’t_ , she thinks, take all of him, she’s so full and the head’s barely inside, she clenches instinctively and he gasps and she gasps and tries to relax again. It’s like the opposite of sensory overload, she’s completely focused and zeroed in and it’s all she can feel or think about, how huge he is inside her and how unprepared she feels. Jonah’s eyes are all over, and then he reaches out with one of those stupid long sloth-arms and runs his hand over her stomach and down to her cunt. His thumb brushes her clit and she gasps again. It’s like someone struck a match inside her. She’s kindling. It’s so much.

Amy breathes. For once in her life, she’s breathing, she’s completely present, thinks about nothing during sex but the fact that she’s having it. She fucks back on him, little by little, inch by inch, until she’s totally seated upon him and her nails have left fuchsia half-moon marks all over his shoulders. 

“Oh my God,” she mutters as she takes the last bit of him, and his chest heaves as he inhales. She realizes, then, that he was holding his breath too, and then her arms tumble out from underneath her and she falls down to kiss him.

He fucks her slowly, little by little, long rolling thrusts that keep him balls-deep inside her, really. One hand playing with her clit, teasing until he’s not even teasing anymore, all the while panting in her ear: mostly obscene nonsense, but every so often a coherent phrase slips out, “Fuck, Amy, holy shit, can’t believe you’re taking all that, your ass is so tight, holy _fuck_ , you’re–”

“Shut _up_ ,” she bites out into his shoulder, but it sends another shock wave through her, and he slips his hand just so that she’s grinding her clit against the heel of his palm –

“You’re so fucking _wet_ ,” he breathes in cocky admiration, like he can’t believe it himself. “Dirty bitch, huh?” (She squeezes her eyes shut, feels his other hand come down hard on her ass – can just _see_ the perfect handprint from the impact, Jesus, he’s so gross.) “You like that? Tell me.”

“Oh my God,” she mutters flatly, and he smacks her ass again, then a long thrust in tandem with the way he grinds his palm up against her, playing her like a goddamn instrument, and she groans – low and animalistic, from her throat, and she can’t pretend, not after that. “Yeah.”

He’s still grinding the heel of his hand against her, still fucking into her in long strokes, she’s so fucking _full_ , he’s hitting nerve endings she’s forgotten she _had_. “Tell me you like it when I fuck you in the ass,” he says, low and slimy and teasing, and the last remaining shred of Amy’s self-respect disintegrates like a kleenex in the washing machine as she buries her face in his shoulder and spits out the words as fast as she can.

“I like it when you fuck me in the ass.” Beet red. Overheating. Too much.

“ _Fuck_.” His head falls backward, he spanks her one more time, then squeezes down hard over her left cheek, digging his fingertips in as her breath hitches again. “Hey, uh,” he says, “sit up? And ride it.”

With what strength she has, Amy pushes herself up; she braces her hands on either side of his waist and digs her knees into the mattress. Pushes herself up, long, slow, until just his head is stretching her entrance, and then – drops back down, fucking all the way back down. Again. Again. Her clit bumps against his hand; she presses down against it every time. Her orgasm builds until it hits her like a tidal wave –

 _Fuck_.

– and then explodes over her, gasping and clenching around him, falling forward, quads giving out entirely. He fucks her through it, and then it’s just about over for him too, but she’s riding a second crest (they hit her in tandem, like buckshot, one peak after another until she’s spent) and barely notices until he’s shuddering and gasping and coming inside her.

Sticky. Totally spent. He takes his hand away from her cunt and licks at it lazily, disgusting, as his softening cock slips out of her. She can feel his other hand stroking over her back, her ass, fingers teasing her entrance – she ducks her face into his shoulder and shakes her head, no, done for the night, and laughs as he goes back to stroking the small of her back.

“Jesus,” he mutters. “Ame. You’re a fucking rock star.”

“Shut up,” she murmurs, and his chest heaves with laughter underneath her.

“Seriously,” he says. “I totally owe you. Anything you want.”

“I want you to shut up,” she repeats, and he presses an awkward kiss to the side of her head.

“Fuck, yeah. Whatever the lady wants.”


End file.
